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2013.07.23 - Meanwhile...Back on the Helicarrier
Why is it that meetings seem to happen after business hours on the helicarrier? Better left unasked as the answer will never be truly forthcoming. And if there is a response, it may not actually be the 'correct' one, but rather, the correct one for the time. Once again, the Director is seated at his desk, his one good eye plastered upon the dual monitors before him, and he's talking into the phone on the desk. There are papers on his desk, an ashtray, and a tumbler with just a little something sitting on the bottom of it. "Tne -moment- it becomes a little more clear is the moment you get your ass out to see Asir. Got it?" There's a muffled, "Yessir," that comes in response. The clarity is there, even if it sounds as if the person on the other end is thousands of miles away. Chances are? They are. Reaching to push a button, the connection is closed and the Director pokes the touch screen in front of him, moving files around once again. Carmichal is honestly still in awe of the Helicarrier. When they picked him up for the mission it was outside his office space in Gotham. On the transport, he'd been issued his gear, told to suit up, and well....that was that. This wasn't an unworkable situation for him. He'd done that plenty of times in the war. Get a message from HQ, meet his ride, get briefed on the way to, or upon arrival at the objective. Standard spycraft, even in the 1940s. He was unperturbed by Fury's reticence in sharing the info. John understood what 'need to know' was, and how one's 'need' could change suddenly during a mission. Better to walk in somewhat blind, and trust one's commander than to second guess him and demand answers. However, after what they'd encountered on the U-boat...well, John would have liked a little higher clearance than he clearly had been issued, but like any good agent he did what he was told, and trusted his commander. That was easy for him. He knew Fury in a way very few others alive today could claim. He'd served with him during war-time. He's shown to Fury's office after changing back into his civvies and then waits outside until he's told it's his turn to enter. This he does, holding his fedora in his hands. Time for the AARs, and some Q&A with his bossman. John was ready to jump on it. Since his revival a month ago, he'd been having a very tough time adjusting to modern life. Chief difficulty: Lack of direction. Hey may not have wanted to jump back into the military, but one thing he DID know is military organizations, or even para-military organizations were exactly that: Organized. He was ready to have a purpose, and direction again. He steps in nodding to Fury "Nick....." his eyes glancing to the ashtray on the desk. He doesn't even bother asking if its okay to smoke. It's still ingrained in him to presume everyone smokes. He takes out a silver cigarette case, slips an unfiltered Lucky Strike into his mouth, and lights it with an old zippo, taking a drag off it while he waits for the debrief to begin. Changing for the debrief, Roy Harper had multiple questions about the formula, what it was for, why 'Contact' had managed to break cover long enough to let the -Director- know... And yet, when he arrives, just in time, the secretary informs him to go right on, even though he'd just seen someone enter. Taking a deep breath, Roy opens the door, stepping in. "Colonel Fury," the archer says, saluting briefly before closing the door behind him, and then approaching the desk, and standing in front of the chair until the Colonel gives him permission to site. Not quite -smartly-, but that was Roy Harper for you. The ashtray is fair game. The director hasn't lit his cigar yet, but it's only a matter of time. "John, come in. Take a seat." Gesturing towards a chair, now Fury takes a cigar out from his desk. Harper enters the moment Fury is pulling out the little guillotine to cut the end off, and he looks up from his spot. Nodding towards the chair in another gesture, he finishes the cut. "Agent Harper." The guillotine is set back into a drawer, and matches are located. It's not long before a couple of long pulls are given to the cigar, the flame keps until there comes a nice even burn. Soon enough, the match is discarded, and he leans back in his seat. "Your reports have been duly read and filed, gentlemen." (Take it for what it is. If a report was written, it was duly read. If it's not? Let it serve as a hint and warning!) Carmichal sits as offered, ashing into the ashtray, and nodding at Fury's words. "That was a helluva thing, Nick....." he says, and offers a slight grin "Maybe a little more warning next time might be in order though eh?" he chides lightly "Provided there is a next time...." he says "I'm a little curious about my status with the Division, Colonel...." he says "to be more specific.....do I even have a status?" he asks, reaching inside his jacket and removing a flask. He unscrews the lid, tips it back, and Ahhhhs quietly, before offering it toward Fury. "72 year old Scotch, if you're thirsty." he says. Oh, the report had been submitted for the U-Boat incident. Every exucrating detail of it, from the initial ex-Checkmate contact to the explosion of the U-Boat. Roy Harper had learned once, when he'd submitted a report late to the Director. His adjutant had had to hide a gleeful smirk when the next mission was assigned: babysitting duty for a visiting officer's -thoroughly spoiled- twelve years old daughter. At least it hadn't been the five years old holy terror son, but still... Taking his seat, Roy nods quietly, wondering briefly about just why this man next to him was so familar with the Director... and it was probably quite plain to see on his face. Nick grins at John's impression on the mission passed, and he can't help but agree. "It was, wasn't it? Been a long time since I've been able to pull a trigger on a kraut." The grin turns sly for a brief moment, "You see why I had you pegged for it? You knew Fritz as much as I did, and in your position, probably better in some ways." Leaning over, he pokes his tumble a few inches across his desk in offrance. "Finger, no more." Now, as he leans back again, the single eyes turns toward his junior field agent, all business once again. "Agent Harper. Do you have any problem working with this man as assigned?" There's a reason he's asking here. To avoid any chance of scuttlebutt. His attention turns slowly back to John, and he leans back in his chair without grabbing the scotch yet. "Status," he begins. "Everyone likes to know where they belong. And I told you, John, that all you had to do was ask. Now, however, what to do with your skills." He sounds as if he's more brainstorming than actually informing. But, he's communicating, and whatever is said can be as good as done. "What I'd like to see is you working with my agents here. I'd like to be able to allow you to keep what freedom you have. That way, as you're getting your sea legs, you'll be able to poke your nose into things that aren't necessarily under my jurisdiction." Nick points at Roy and continues, "Field Agent Harper there knows that if he does anything that doesn't have my okay may not be a sanctioned event, as it were. Regardless, I will expect a report and a damned good reason as to why we needed to get involved, even if it was only with resources." Fury only looks as good as his people, after all. And vice versa, he is well aware. He smiles tightly and exhales in a short breath. "Contractors get more leeway. Like Rogers. And Stark. They are free to pursue different things." Carmichal pours the flask into the tumbler smirking as he gives the director of SHIELD two fingers, contrary to his request. "Too good to chintz on, Colonel. I'll make sure a bottle or two finds its way up here..." he says. John had an entire cellar full of this stuff. He was a bit of a lush right before his extended sleep in the concrete cocoon. It was only 10 years old then...now...yippee-skippy! He listens to Fury talk, glancing to Agent Harper, and back again quietly. As the 'freedom' to act is explained in reference to his being offered a job as a 'contractor' rather than a full-time agent, John's eyes focus on nothing for a moment as he considers. Finally he simply nods, waiting to hear Harper's take on things. At the mention of his skills, he's not sure just how up to speed on his abilities Fury actually is. While he was registered with his real name with the BCA, they didn't exactly ask too many probing questions, and to his recollection, Carmichal had never fully disclosed the abilities he had that he knew about. (This whole 'coming back from the dead' thing was still new to him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to test it for comfirmation yet). "Not that anyone asked...." he begins "But I would have no problem backing up the kid here. He was good down there, never lost his head, kept his eye on the target, and was pretty quick on the uptake with what I'm sure must have been foreign environs." he grins at Fury "You and me, we've got some experience with ole Adolf's toys, but I'm betting the kid here'd never been so close to it before..." he gives Roy a nod "You did well, going in as blind as we did. Nice job." Wrinkling his nose, Roy Harper considers. "As assigned... on specific missions, or on a regular basis?" The regularly assigned partner slot had been revolving door lately, and he hadn't had a permanent field partner assigned. "I believe I could work with him, sir," Roy says, although he doesn't quite look so confident answering it. Improvision -was- one of those things Roy did, in the field, winging it as it were, but even then, it had better -be- related to the SHIELD objective or he was out on his own, and so Roy nods quickly to Nick's comments. Maybe a bit too quickly, considering how much he could freelance at times. "Mind, I'm not sending you out into the cold world, John. Far from it. No way in hell will I let them come after you. You'll pull a stipend from us. Gear as needed, but you're going to have to put a hold on your request for a flying car." And Nick actually said that last bit with a straight face? "And, I'll pretty much have your phone number on the list of 'to call'." A chuffed laugh sounds, and Fury listens to John's breakdown of his opinion on the matter of the last mission and the professionalism. "The kid likes things that blow up. Figure he'd never had a chance to blow a sub when you and me, we had plenty of chances." Roy is given his attention, and the Director nods, finally remembering that cigar in hand. It's out, and he's forced to start the entire lighting ritual over again. "On specific missions. I'm not going to send him out on jaunts where his particular experience wouldn't be of any help." Fury finally gets the cigar relit, and he puffs a couple of times after hard pulls. "Perfect. If you can, I won't have any problem with sending you into places where his expertise would be of great value." The U-Boat. Now, there's a question. Did he have John in mind and took Roy along, or was it the other way around? "And I have a feeling there'll be plenty more where that came from." Carmichal sits back and relaxes a bit, and nods, taking a final drag off his smoke, and stubbing it out in Nick's ashtray. "Don't worry about the car, Fury. I've got that covered on my own." he says "You'd be surprised how many sciency types start drooling when you pose a difficult question." he says and grins "As for equipment, well, I'm stocking some of my own, but I may ask for at least limited access to information, depending on my security clearance anyway....which I assume is up to you." he says "I'm working with a company out of Gotham to outfit my PI office with technology, and...what is it called...computer networking?" he says "Don't know if you've got anyone in Gotham who can liase with them, to maybe network me in quietly, but I'll leave it to your people. The lady to contact about that is named Barbara Gordon...don't know if you've heard of her, but I hear she's a wiz with these computer things." he says "As for money, I'll take it, though at the moment, the real trick for me is just, as you put it, getting my sea legs. Now here's my question....." he says pausing for dramatic effect. ".....Am I gonna have access to this carrier? Or am I stuck on the ground? I think there's a gymnasium on this thing I'd really like to make use of." he grins "Not to mention some of the training programs. I have a feeling my "sock 'em in the face" training from the war probably aint gonna cut it these days. Hell I almost got kicked in the head by some bunny wearing her underwear the other night in Gotham. Just for kneecapping some dirtbag that tried to kill me." he chuckles. "If you want I can submit reports of my non-sanctioned activities too...." "Good," Roy grins, as he salutes. "I think I can handle anything you throw at me." Although he did wonder briefly about whether Fury -was- going to send up against Magneto at some point armed with nothing but wood. Nah, he wouldn't be that mean, would he...? Nick smiles, and it's a genuine one. He waves the cigar in the air in gesture and leans forward for the drink now. Pulling the ashtray towards him by an inch, the Director leans the cigar there before he raises the tumbler in something of a toast. "It sounds like you've got it right, John. Mutually beneficial, I think." The aged liquid is downed, and he closes his eyes to savor the burn. Damned good stuff. "You'll have access to the carrier. There will be parts of it that's offlimits, but that's normal. Not everyone can go anywhere. Just the nature of the beast." Fury doesn't sound apologetic. It is what it is. "You'll have access to the gyms, and access to trainers. I've got a list of them in the city, too. Just tell 'em who you're with and they'll let you in." A laugh sounds, and the glass is set to the side, "You'd be surprised. You just need to be properly motivated is all." Nick looks towards Roy, and his expression is one of 'Am I right?'. Plenty of situations where the young Field Agent became 'properly motivated' that he's read about. "Harper, if you could set John up with an MWR officer to give him a real tour?" And it's back to Carmichal his attention turns, and the smile returns. "Welcome aboard, John. Enjoy your freedom, and your office front. I will definitely be calling, so keep a bottle back for me." Category:Log